The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1887-01-01
A Strange Story.
Philadelphia Erening Call.

A Strange Story.
Philadelphia Erening Call.
Having no particular pet theory to
ventilate, l am not about to write an
essay on dreams. My purpose is to re-
late-well, if you wish we shall call it a
story, which has at least the merit of
truth if it may not possess the interest
of action.
had fairly entered on my career as
lawyer, and my health never the most
robust, of late had been causing me con-
siderable annoyance. I had been always
disposed to agree with Shakespeare's
apothecary and throw physic to the
dogs but in the end I was obliged to
f5piy to physician for advice. 1t was
ervous prostration, he assured me,
brought on by excessive study, and 1
must forthwith close my books and get
away to the country. you will find
the very tonic you require in the salt sea
breezes at some pleasant watering place.
he said to me. On reaching my lonely
room that evening hunted up letter
received from an old college chum some
ten days before, and this is what read:
Dear Craac10r1:-I've heard with
considerable concern that your health
has been failing you lately, and that a
too close application to your books is
the cause. Surely this is an eminently
proper time to fulfill promise so often
made to spend few days with me. The
invigorating sea breeze will build you
up in no time. Come away then, from
that wilderness of bricks and mortar
they call New York, and learn what
happiness can be found in healthy
country life. I shall not take nay for
an answer, so don't compel me to run
I'D to town and carry you away bo1 gre
nat ere. Yours, etc.,
FRED. LIVINGSTON
Within an hour valise was packed
and a letter written to the office stating
my intention of taking short vacation.
The anticipation of long wished-for
holiday and its consequent excitement
rendered me nervous and restless, and
when retired to bed it was to remain
awake feverish through half the night.
Toward morning I grew more COM
posed, and felt that blissful sense of rest
fulness which heralds peaceful sleep.
The transition from the reality of these
wakeful hours into the frantic realm of
sleep must have been instantaneous. A
palpable presence was in the room and
bending over me, and voice was whis-
pering softly, Leslie Crawford, 1 am
thy guardian fairy! Thou hast been
poor and ill and lonely, and I have sor-
rowed with thee. But the shadows of
of the past are clearing, and brighter
future will open tor thy tomorrow.
Within stones throw of the friends
house thou art about to visit thou wilt
find treasure that will bring thee hap
piness.' My former knowledge of fairies
had been confined to those of-the spe-
cies that in abbreviated skirts appear
occasionally in burlesque. But my
guardian fairy seemed widely different
being, albeit endowed with all the at
tributes of a sweetly-perfected woman
hood. We never notice the startling
incongruities of dreams until we wake
from them, and to me there was moth
ing that was not serenely proper in this
tall and stately girl, dressed la mode,
bending over me as I slept. So wildly
was her corporal presence impressed
upon my retina while slept that l drew
her portrait when woke in these words:
A fairy clothed in all the ripe and real
charms of a woman, with the voluptuous
form of Juno, the ethereal beauty of
face of St. Cecilia.
1t was late in the afternoon when l
reached the end of my journey by rail
and started on the half-mile walk to my
friends home. had been there some
years before, and the road was not alto
gether unfamiliar to me. We were lads
then, but now would find him mar
ried man cultivating the domestic vir-
tues and bucolic tastes. AS reached
the gate, stopped to brush the dust
from my shoes, and as I did SO a gilt
tering object, hidden in the grass, at
tracted my attention. With some Gu
riosity 1 picked it up, as I wondered
was this the treasure tfove of which the
sibyl of my dreams had told me. 1t
was Maltese cre.s of gold, quantity
chased, and wit 5 a single sapphire set
in the center. Did l believe in dreams3
Not then, indeed. Such belief I re-
garded as q superstition, which time had
consecrated into religion for the ig-
norank Fred Livingston and his charm
ing wife received me with cordial
warmth that was very gratifying.
'Why, Crawford, you do indeed seem
off your form. But never mind, old
fellow, the little woman and I shall send
you back to New York with the blood
in your cheeks again.
Indeed we shall, Fred. And now
I'm going to let you two talk over old
times while 1 look after dinner
Before you go, Mrs. Livingston, let
me show you trinket I found at the
gate below, and which very likely is
your own
why, Fred,' she exclaimed, 'if it
amt Virginie's lost brooch. Perhaps
it amt valuable article, Mr.. Crawford,
but from the way my friend was put out
over the loss, it must be an old heir
loom.'
Cor the gift of a lover her husband
added, dryly. The young lady is a
school friend of my wife, and is spend
ing little time with us. For your own